


Lane Changes

by mishajunkie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (for now) - Freeform, Bi!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Young Adults, there is bowling in this, very mild sexual content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4024498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishajunkie/pseuds/mishajunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean let his girlfriend, Jo, talk him into a double-date with Meg and her new squeeze, he finds his life unexpectedly altered.</p><p>(I AM working on the third part... just waiting for more inspiration.... maybe i need to go bowling again.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this isn't technically beta'd. I have someone, but I just can't contain myself anymore. I lay claim to any grammatical errors... I have issues with tenses... apparently. There is a second chapter finished, needs some tweaking, then maybe I can actually finish this. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“I’m not going,” Dean scoffed, sitting up in bed, clutching his phone closer to his ear.

“Dean, hun, it’s only bowling. It’s not like I’m asking you to rob a bank,” Jo replied. Dean could practically hear his girlfriend rolling her eyes. “Meg just wants us to get a feel for her new squeeze.”

“Since when does Meg need our opinion on guys? She seems to do just fine.”

“Babe, it’s two hours of your life, and I’ll make it up to you,” she ended with a purr.

“I’m listening…” He smirked, looking across the room at his mirror.

“I don’t wanna ruin the surprise Dean, but I’m positive you’ll like it.” That was almost a clear promise of sex. Dean groaned, running his hand over his face. It had been a while since Jo and him did anything… physical. He was starting think something was off between them.

“Fine, fine,” Dean answered. “I’ll grab you at 7:30 and we can head over to the bowling alley.”

“Oh! Thank you! Meg will be so pleased!”

“Yeah, yeah. This Casti-whatever dude better be cool because bowling sure as hell is not. I have an image to keep here.”

“It’s ‘Castiel’ and he has to be cool, he is dating Meg,” Jo said, ending the call.

“Like that says much…” he whispered to himself. Dean pulled the phone back and stared at the screen. The photo display for Jo was a photo of them kissing and he quickly hit the home button to get it to disappear. His real ‘Baby’ replaced Jo and he leaned back on his pillows. There was just enough time for a power nap.

 

...

A few hours later, Dean brought his Impala to a stop outside Jo’s house. It is a quaint little cottage with the most ridiculous pink trim edging it’s white siding. It looked perfect next to the ironically named Roadhouse Dinner, mirroring the cottage’s coloring. The ‘House as Dean likes to call it was owned and run by Jo’s mom, Ellen. It also served the most delicious pecan pie Dean has ever tasted. Every time he put some in his mouth, it felt like heaven. The smells wafted from the restaurant and Dean inhales deeply.

Jo skipped out the front door. She was wearing Dean’s favorite outfit on her, simple leggings and a plaid shirt, just running down low enough to leave enough for the occasional wandering eye to image. Her blond hair was down and flowing freely behind her as she jogged to the car. As always, Dean rolled down the passenger side door as she approached.

“Hey, hotstuff, do you mind if I hitch a ride?” she said, leaning down into the window and smirking.

“I don’t know, sweetcheeks. Where ya headin’?”

“Oh, I don’t know… I was thinkin’ that little candlepin bowling alley down on Everett Ave.” Jo leaned to the side a tad and began twirling her hair around her finger, biting her lip. Dean began chuckling.

“I can’t run with this joke with you when you do that,” he laughed. “Get in, we have a hot date to go to, supposedly.” Jo smiled brightly, swung the door open and settled herself in the seat. Dean threw it in reverse and halted for a second as he felt her hand appear on his thigh. He shot a glance in her direction.

“Remember what I promised, Dean?” He swallowed and nodded. “Just checkin’.” Jo removed her hand and stared out the front window. “Drive, Dean.” Mouth still open in surprise of Jo’s teasing, he slowly let off the brake and rolled out of the driveway.

The bowling alley, Perditions, was a little building on the other side of town. It had a cheesy neon sign that had partially blown out years ago; all it read these days is “Perdi”. The siding was lame wood with giant cut-outs of bowling pins glued on. The dumpster at the edge of the parking lot was overflowing, smell hitting them like a brick wall with the summer heat. But, on the bright side, there was now a bar added on. _That wasn’t here last time_ , Dean thought. He hadn’t been here since high school when his younger brother Sam had played in a pre-teen league on Sundays.

As they exited the Impala, Jo said while glancing down at her phone, “They’re waiting inside for us with a lane all ready.”

“Oh joy…” Dean sighed, running his hands through his light brown hair. Jo grabbed his hand and began to pull her reluctant boyfriend inside.

“Awesome! It’s glow night!” Jo exclaimed as soon as they entered. Inside, the lights were dimmed and the alley was littered in colored strobe and black lights. On top of the shock to his eyes, Dean`s nose was assaulted by the pungent smell of shoe disinfectant. The white in Jo’s plaid glowed a little. The jukebox in the corner was playing one of the latest Pop music hits. Dean repressed an aggravated groan; this was way worse than he recalled.

“Jo, aren’t we a little old for glow bowling?” he asked, wanting to hide himself. Twenty - two year old men should be spotted in an establishment of this nature.

“Nonsense, this is fun no matter what your age is. Why don’t you browse the jukebox for better tunes, while I grab our shoes?”

“Fine,” he grumbled, trying not to stomp as he walked away.

The music box didn’t have very much selection in regards to classic rock, but he lined up what there was and paid. When he was finished, he turned to find Jo. She was over at the last lane next against the wall, laughing with Meg. She saw him looking and motioned for him to join. Begrudgingly, he made his way over. _This is going to be torture_ , he thought, and tried to overcome his embarrassment by thinking of Jo's "promise."

Meg was wearing her trademark jeans and leather coat. She had her brown hair pulled back in the ponytail and definitely over did it with the perfume today. Dean held back a gagging noise as they greeted each other. Jo handed him the shoes, which were (as expected) a hideous combo of yellow and orange that glowed too brightly in the black lights. He sat down to put them on and surveyed the area. Almost every lane was full! He had no idea that candlepin bowling was this popular these days. It always felt like bowling for sissies. Softball sized balls and smaller pins? Kill him now.

“Cas went to go get a bucket of beers,” Meg was rambling. “He is a bit shy and awkward at first, but I think you guys will like him.” Jo beamed a smile at her friend and shoulder bumped her.

“I’m sure we will,” she replied. Dean could not hide his eye roll and she sent him a glare and mouthed, ‘Be good.’ He held up his hands in surrender.

“Here he comes! Ugh, Jo, he is too adorable!” Meg whispered urgently, grabbing Jo’s wrist. Dean stood up, feeling a little less manly with those ridiculous velcro shoes on his feet.

Coming down the aisle, avoiding the crowd of already drunk people, was a dark-haired man wearing jeans, a maroon hoodie, and a mouth-watering bucket of beers. He had a perplexed look on his face looking around for his group and his eyes widen upon seeing them. With a wide smile on his face, he set the beers on the score table and draped an arm around Meg.

“Jo, Dean, this is Castiel,” she introduced. Castiel stood a smidge shorter than Dean, but when he looked up, their eyes were level. Dean felt like his heart stopped for moments. Of course, not literally, but saying the man took a breath away from Dean wouldn’t be giving it justice. Castiel’s eyes were a light blue and reminded him of deep pools water. Just like that, he was having trouble forming words. A throat clearing brought him back into reality, and Dean realized he had been standing with his mouth open. Castiel flashed a small smirk before offering a hand.

“Hello Dean… It’s nice to meet you,” he said formally. He voice was deep and raspy and Dean’s heart began to race, making up for the skipped beats. “Meg has told me a lot about you,” he continued, still holding Dean’s eyes. “…both of you, Jo.” Eye contact was broken as Cas looked over at Jo; it almost felt like whiplash. Dean went to staring down at the outstretched hand, not finding his voice.

“I hope all she talks about is how awesome we are,” Jo piped in, giggling slightly. He could feel her kick his foot softly; an attempt to snap him out of wherever he went. “I apologize for my boyfriend, he didn’t get a lot of sleep last night and is a tad sluggish today.” Dean nodded slowly and finally brought himself to reach out to grasp Castiel’s hand.

“He seems to doing just… fine,” Castiel replied, gripping his hand firmly. Dean felt warmth running through his body and it took a moment to realize he must be blushing. When their eyes met again, the blue in Castiel’s eyes was receding, replaced by growing pupils. _It’s dark in here… it’s just that_ , Dean thought.

“You don’t seem very awkward,” was the first sentence Dean managed to get out and instantly regretted. The grasp on his hand tightened and he heard a soft chuckle.

“Dean!” Jo screamed playfully and punched his shoulder. Letting go, Dean used his now free hand to run through his hair.

“Sorry man, that was sort of rude, I meant…” He was cut off by more chuckling, and a smirk. _That smirk..._

“No apologies needed. I have to admit, I let myself indulge in a shot… or two, before making my way over here. I find it helps me loosen up a bit.” Dean found himself simply nodding again.

“Anywayyyy,” Meg drew out, displacing the ever growing awkwardness. “Who wants to bowl?” Jo clapped enthusiastically.

Dean was glad that Jo was up first. It was a perfect moment to be able to stare at your girlfriend’s ass without getting in trouble. And that’s exactly what he needed… his thoughts focusing on Jo. She grabbed a ball and shuffled up to the line, not really picking up her feet. Stepping back a tad, she drew her hand back and gently threw the ball down. Perfect gutter ball. Everyone laughed, including Jo. She turned to face the group, placed her hands on her hips, and pouted. The whole moment was adorable.

“I haven’t exactly done this recently, and neither have any of you,” she pointed to each person. “I’d like to see you throw a strike on the first try.” Huffing, Jo grabbed another ball. This time, she managed to get six pins down and then two more on the third. She sat down triumphantly. “You’re up next, babe.”

Dean’s feet felt like lead as he got up. He had no idea why he suddenly was nervous. He is actually an exceptional bowler, regular and candlepin. But the thought of looking ridiculous in front of Castiel was almost painful. He swallowed and approached the ball return. There was a collection of tie-dye balls all glowing brightly, and one lonely dark one. Of course, he went with that. With concentration, he tossed the ball and watched as it curved in just enough to get all the pins to domino fall on one another. In shock, he didn’t even realize he had gone full bowler and was stopped in a pro’s follow through position.

Jo was hooting from the benches and Meg was clutching her belly in amusement. “Winchester, when did you learn to bowl like that? Who know you were such a fucking nerd?” she called out, still breathing heavy from laughing. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to shrug off her comment.

“Oh, give it a rest, Meg. Dean is awesome and you’re just jealous,” Jo said, pulling Dean back down to his seat next to her. Jo leaned in and gave him a quick, but strong, kiss on the lips.

“Thanks,” he muttered, embarrassment dissipating. He glanced over to the other bench; Meg was getting to her feet to do her throws and Cas was… glaring? He didn’t know how to process that look.

Meg bowled as expected, which is the same as Jo, knocking down eight. Castiel didn’t seem to keen on getting up for his turn, but was sort of pushed by Meg. Slowly, Cas approached the ball return and evaluated his choices.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, babe. Your ball is not Cinderella's shoe," Meg called out. "Pick one."

Castiel's brows squinted in momentary confusion before finally picking a ball, tentatively, and walked up to the foul line. He swung his arm back, and threw it down the aisle haphazardly. It actually bounced a few times (making Dean wince), rolled into the gutter and came to a halt. Castiel stood straight, probably basking in the sweet misery of failure.

“Got it!” Dean enthusiastically  jumped to his feet and practically skipped down the alley to push the ball the rest of the way. When he turned to walk back up, he noticed Castiel’s face was pure white. Dean’s pulse quickened and he stopped to lean close to his ear, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Just let go a little closer to the ground next time, and it should roll right out of your hand, man.” Cas turned and looked at Dean. Their faces were inches away from one another and he could feel hot breath hitting his lips. He couldn’t resist licking his in response. Cas merely nodded and put his focus on the ball return. With the eye contact broken, Dean patted his shoulder a few times before taking more steps back to the benches. Dean couldn’t help notice that as he continued on, that Cas picked the dark ball next.

Castiel’s bowling didn’t improve much by the fourth turn and Dean has had enough of the taunts from Jo and Meg. _Is there no such thing as respect, these days?_ He thought.

“Cas, buddy, let me give you a few pointers,” he said, getting up when Cas was up next. He raised an eyebrow and Dean responded with a shrug. Following the man up to the shellacked floor, Dean had a hard time keeping his eyes focused on the task and not Castiel’s backside.

At the ball return, Cas turned and quietly said, “You don’t have to show me anything, Dean. I’m use to being laughed at when it comes to sports.” Dean felt like someone punched him in the gut hearing the sadness portrayed in that statement.

“First off, bowling is definitely not a “sport” and second, you gotta learn to bowl at some point. Better to do it now, with these pansy-ass balls and pins, than with heavy nine-pound balls.” Cas’s cheeks deepened with a shade of pink. “Now, pick one.” He instantly grabbed the colorless one. Dean suppressed a smile.

He showed Cas how to line up his throw, and demonstrated a good one and where to aim. When Castiel dumped another gutter ball, Dean about screamed in frustration. The girls were quietly watching in interest. Dean tried to ignore their presence and focus on the mission at hand.

Surprising himself (and Cas), he lined himself with Castiel’s back and placed his hand over the one gripping the ball. Castiel instantly stiffened. “Cas, man, relax. Just follow my movements,” Dean whispered, bringing his mouth close to the man’s ear. He could hear the man gulp. Using his free hand, he guided Cas to the best spot on the floor and brought their arms back. When it was time to let go, Dean whispered, “Now,” and the ball rolled smoothly out of their grip and down the center of the alley. After four pins were knocked over and their surroundings grew quiet, Dean realized his other hand was gripping Castiel’s hip securely, pulling their bodies tight against one another. He let go, startled at the feeling that was stirring within him. Cas just managed to turn his head and stare doe-eyed at him. Dean’s heart was doing those crazy flits again and he could suddenly hear the blood rushing to his cheeks, the pounding echoing in his ears.

Awkwardly, he laughed. “See, not hard at all…” He let his sentence flounder off, realizing that the words he spat out could be taken a different way. The echoing now felt like alarm bells. _What is happening here?_ Dean thought hurriedly, and promptly walked back to the benches. “Try the last one on your own.” Castiel was still positioned in the same spot when Dean sat down.

“Babe, that was sweet of you,” Jo whispered, kissing his cheeks.

“And oddly erotic,” Meg muttered, barely audible.

Before Dean could register what he was doing, he had gripped Jo’s chin and drew her into a fierce kiss. He could feel her react in shock but then melt into it as always. After a couple of seconds, he stepped up the level of their kiss. Dean ran his tongue along Jo’s lips, asking for entrance and moved his hand to the back of her head. Making out in public was not really his game of choice, but after the display with Castiel, this all Dean wanted to do. Just show everyone how cool he is frenching his delicious, blond girlfriend. He could sense that it was going on too long, getting awkward for all involved, but he didn’t want to stop. The sounds of another gutter ball and heavy footsteps were echoing in his ears. He didn’t want to see the look on Castiel’s face.

Finally, Jo pulled away, breathing heavy, lips parted with shock. Instead of her normal happy face showing, Jo was clearly annoyed. Dean scrunched his eyebrows a bit and tried to portray a questioning expression, but he knew why she was looking at him and he was willing to bet Meg was giving them the same look. He tore his eyes away and coughed.

"It's your turn Jo," Castiel said gruffly, really pulling Dean's thoughts to reality.  He looked across the lane seats to Castiel's eyes, but the blue-eyed man was looking at the floor. Dean was instantly hit with guilt at his actions, although he wasn't sure which one.

Jo rose to her feet and tugged at the bottom of her shirt; it had moved up her stomach during their exchange.  She wandered up to the lane and began to throw her turn.  From the corner of his eye, Dean saw Castiel lean over to Meg, followed by hushed whispers. Then Cas got up and left.

"Where's he off too?" Dean asked, trying to sound  casual.

"Beer run,"Meg responded, motioning to the empty bucket between them.

"Oh," he said, feeling a little relieved that the answer implied Castiel was coming back. He could see Cas making his way to the crowd that clustered between the bowling lanes and the bar.

"Earth to Winchester," he heard Meg say.

"What?" He snapped.

"Wow, you need a chill pill. You're all kinds of strange tonight," she noted. Dean just pursed his lips in response. "Just letting you know it's your go... that is if you are done staring at my angel's ass."

Immediately, Dean scoffed and snorted at the idea, getting up. "Dont play dumb with me, Dean," Meg cried out as he entered the alley area. Jo was watching the pins reset, back to the two of them, so Dean took the moment to share a hand gesture with Meg.

Dean slowly approached Jo, as to not startle her, and placed his hands on her hips. She turned her head back some and sighed. "You okay?" He asked. She merely nodded. "Look, if you're not having a good time, we can totally bail. I'm sure you can give Meg a full assessment just based on his bowling skills." Jo did not laugh. _Uh oh..._

"I'm fine, Dean, truly," she finally said. "I must just be tired, that’s all." Her expression grew sad, almost heartbroken, and Dean couldn't shake the feeling he'd done something wrong. _Try this whole night_ , he thought nervously. Jo went back to her seat and Dean retrieved his ball. He lined his shot up, but as he reached back to let go, he locked eyes with the returning Castiel. Thrown off, he let go prematurely.  The ball landed loudly, falling behind him. Rolling off the alley's raised flooring, it came to a stop at Castiel's feet, literally. There was silence amongst the group, and with each painful second, Dean's cheek became a deeper shade of pink.

Meg broke the tension by joyously leaping to her feet and exclaiming, "There IS a God! Winchester isn't perfect!" Jo and her broke into a heavy fit of laughter while the lane next to them casted annoyed looks in their direction. Dean joined the chorus of giggles, albeit nervously, stepping forward to retrieve his wayward ball. Castiel had beaten him to the punch and was holding it out to him. Swallowing, Dean mumbled out a thanks.

"Hey, when you're done eye-fucking my boyfriend, do you mind finishing your tragedy of a turn?" Meg cat-called. Castiel straighten his posture and grabbed a beer from the now-full bucket. Dean decided not to protest Meg's claim, and took the high road by throwing three consecutive gutters in a row.

Jo won. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still technically unbeta'd. if you see any horrible errors or what-note, let me know! 
> 
> There's mild sexual content it this. Enough that I probably should be considered "Mature" but not enough for me to change the rating. :P

Dean clutched Baby’s steering wheel tight and white knuckled. Neither him nor Jo had spoken a word since they entered the Impala. The whole situation felt eerie. Dean had never been so confused in his existence. Sure, he had dabble in thoughts and experiments, but each time, he always chose women. He had chosen Jo.

Finally, the car came to a stop in Jo’s driveway. There were no lights coming from within, signaling a lack of presence inside. Dean turned the ignition off and looked toward Jo. He was startled to find her already meeting gaze. She was smirking.

“Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Dean,” she said, reaching over to take his hand. Once again, he felt his nerves fire up and he swallowed hard.

“Yea, don’t mention it,” he mused, observing Jo’s hand, which had moved on to gently rubbing his wrist. He was stunned when she pulled it over and rested it on her inner thigh. “What are you..” he began, but cut himself off when he remembered her ‘promise.’ “Right.” She raised her eyebrow and proceeded to caress her cheek, tugging it closer to hers.

“You behaved yourself enough, Mr. Winchester,” Jo purred and began to kiss him. Dean went rigid at their lips touching, not unlike Jo earlier, and stayed frozen. Jo pulled away frowning. “Are you okay?” It seemed like the theme of the night.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” he forced himself to respond and made his point by trailing kisses down her neck. Jo let out a moan of appreciation of Dean’s actions, placing her hand on his leg. “I’m awesome,” he whispered. This time, he returned her kiss with the enthusiasm Dean felt was appropriate.

Minutes went by and their heavy make-up turned into a heavy petting as Jo pulled away and removed her shirt. She merely grinned at Dean’s groans before reaching across the seat and started pulling at his belt buckle. Dean leaned back, not even caring if they could be seen or not. Jo snaked her hand inside his jeans, which had become a tad tighter during their kissing. He gasped as she grasped his member, and completely freeing from the confines of his boxers. The warm summer air, along with Jo’s hot breath that was inching closer, put him on edge instantly.

Jo leaned over and slowly ran her tongue across his head, cleaning the drop of precum that had appeared. She let out an almost primal moan before engulfing his cock in her wet mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, and Dean found himself wishing he taken that extra time in the afternoon to clean out the proverbial pipes. With the humming she was doing and the twists of her wrists, he didn’t think he’d last long. In an attempt to stave off his impending orgasism, Dean tried to picture unsexy things. _Trash… crappy music… bad odors… stupid bowling… Cas…_ Before he could register where his thoughts had trailed, images of Castiel were flashing in his head. Castiel’s eyes, his skin, the way he walks, his jean-clad ass, the smell of Cas -- crisp and clean. And those lips… Dean was barely able to cry out a warning to Jo before he was coming hard in her mouth.

She sat up quickly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, with an alarmed expression on her face.

“What the fuck, Dean?” she yelled, searching for her shirt frantically. Deam registered her panic and tried to pull himself out of post-blowjob bliss. _What did I do?_ he thought. Jo shot him a glare, and he realized he’d said his question out loud.

“I’m, uh, sorry, for, uh…” he struggled with words again. “I know you’re a not fan of swall--” Jo cut him off with a hard slap.

“Next time, keep that in mind when you call out someone else’ name,” she spat. Yanking the door handle, she practically tripped over herself in haste to get away from him. Jo didn’t even bother putting her shirt on before storming up her walk-way and slamming the front door.

Dean was left gaping at the open passenger door, still exposed to the world. _Someone else’s_ … Dean thought back to moments earlier and his eyes widen in shock.

He had called out for Cas.

…

It had been three days since Dean had heard from Jo. That fateful night, he had composed himself soon after seeing her disappear into her home. He ran and pounded on her door for an hour, but received no response. She had also ignored his calls and texts. Dean was at a loss as to what to do next and he honestly didn’t know what he was expecting. What he did, besides being tremendously embarrassing, was insulting. Dean would be mad if he has his lips on someone’s… He stopped himself from continuing the thoughts.

Instead, Dean moped. He sat at his kitchen table, alternating between eating away his feelings or numbing them with drinking. His cell phone set in the middle; it’s silence was painful.

“Dude, this is pathetic,” his brother Sammy said as entering the room. It was 3 a.m. and he had walked in to find Dean drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, staring at his phone. Sam forcibly took the alcohol from him and Dean watched in horror as it was poured down the drain. As mad as that made Dean, he didn’t have the energy to fight it. Sam sighed, setting the now empty bottle on the counter. “Do you want to talk about this?”

Dean groaned and rested his forehead on the table. “Why on God’s green Earth would you think I want to talk? Huh, Sammy?” Dean knew his answer was filled with bitterness and cruelty, but he also knew Sam could take it.

“I dunno, Dean. A three-day binge on pie and whisky seem like it should automatically come with a “moment”,” Sam replied, taking up the empty chair across from Dean. He sat quietly and waited for Dean to say something.

“Look man, I don’t need a chick-flick moment, okay? I’m perfectly fine.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sam stated. If Dean wasn’t so drunk that he couldn’t stand, he would have thrown a punch toward his brother’s face. At least then he wouldn’t have to feel guilty for making Sam worry. He decided to shoot him a glare instead. They sat in silence for a while. “I spoke with Jo yesterday.” Sammy’s admission shocked Dean.

“What? Why?” he stammered out; adrenaline began pumping.

“Because you are on the verge of giving yourself alcohol poisoning and I figured she’d know why,” Sam said, keeping a calm tone.

“Is that so?” Sam nodded. “Well, then, tell me what’s wrong with me, since you have allllll the knowledge, little brother,” Dean spat. His brother frowned.

“I don’t, which is why I’m sitting here. All Jo said was that you need to get your shit together. Then she hung up. So I’ll ask again, what happened?” _Just a sexual identity crisis…_

Dean sighed and gave in, “I called out someone else’s name.” His expression went blank for a second  as he took in Dean’s response. Then he realized the meaning behind the statement.

“Ha!” Sam blurted. Dean glared again and Sam tried to put back on a serious face.

“This is why I don’t tell you things, Sammy,” Dean snapped, rising to his feet.

“Hey Dean, sorry,” Sam said, apologetically. His tone sounded like a wounded puppy and Dean could sense that guilty feeling growing in the pit of his stomach again. “You and Jo have been together for, like, forever. I’m sure she can get over you screaming some other chick’s name.” Dean stared blankly at his brother, not desiring to correct Sam on the gender assumption. “Unless…” Dean tensed. “Unless you’ve done more than call out her name?” The implied question hung in the air.

“Ah, no man,” Dean responded. “I just happened to be thinking of that… chick… at the wrong moment.” He forced a smile. “Too much porn will do that to you.” Sam rolled his eyes and slapped the table a few times.

“TMI, Dean, we’ve been through this,” Sam breathed out, shaking his head. Dean just shrugged. “Why don’t you take your pity party to your room and maybe sleep? Jo will come around.” He watched Sam leave and heard him ascend the stairs. Dean continued to stand there and at his phone.

“Doubt that…” he whispered to himself.

…

Dean shot up in bed, face glistening with sweat and heart pounding. Throwing off his thin sheet, he groaned to see he had once again made a mess in his sleep. This time, his poor spare pillow took the brunt of it. Sighing, he leaned back down, happy, for the third day in a row, that he no longer shared a room with Sam. He sat up again and peeled himself up and removed his soiled boxers. Midway through his sheet removal, Dean noticed the notification light on his phone was blinking. Dropping everything in his hands, Dean practically lunged at his nightstand.

A little red bubble waited for him, hovering over the blue Facebook icon. Dean frowned. Jo was not on Facebook, so this obviously wasn’t from her. Still, it made Dean curious. Opening the App, he viewed him notification and almost hurled his device at the wall.

_Castiel Milton has requested to be your friend_

Dean set his phone back down and picked up the abandoned bedding, grumbling to himself all the the while. He needed to cast Castiel out of his mind and get the sheets in the wash before heading out to work. He took in the mess left behind and decided that some new pillows were needed today as well.

When Dean passed Sam in the hall, his brother raised his eyebrows and stared at the wad of sheets in his arms.

“Shut your face,” Dean said, before a comment could be made. “It’s been friggin’ hot and I don’t like sleeping in last night’s sweat puddle,” he lied. Sam threw his hands up in surrender.

“Whatever you say,” he responded.

Dean tossed the sheets in the washer and headed to shower. As he stood under the warm stream, his mind drifted to the friend request waiting for him. Did he want to be _friends_ with Castiel? See his posts? His certain relationship with Meg? Did he want to Cas to see those things about _him_? Dean let the water run cold as he contemplated the decision before him and welcomed the aide to suppress his growing erection. He has gone out of his way since that date night to not touch himself. He didn’t trust his fantasies anymore. _That’s probably why I’m having wet dreams like some twelve year old_ , he thought, drying himself off.

During the day, he tired to continue to push back images from bowling out of his mind and concentrate on doing his job. Bobby would have has ass if he caught Dean daydreaming instead of working. Or worse, messing up a task. But no matter how hard he fought, Castiel and his blue-eyes creeped back into his brain.

Later than evening, once again seated at his table, Dean bit the bullet. He opened up that app and hurriedly hit the “Confirm” button. He instantly regretted it, unsure of what he has even posted this last few weeks. Anxiously, Dean raced to pull up his own profile, forcing himself away from Castiel’s. Scrolling through his page, he picked a few things to delete. Finally, he hovered over the “In A Relationship,” trying to decided what to do. _Well, it’s not like Jo will see this right now_ …  he thought as he changed it to “Hidden.” Besides, he wasn’t lying, he was just being more private.

He was loading Castiel’s page when Sam meandered into the room. He made a point to walk right behind Dean and look at he was doing.

“Dude, privacy much?” Dean asked, setting his phone face down.

“You’re very touchy today,” Sam pointed out.

“Well, what’d you expect? You took my whiskey and we’re out of pie…?” he huffed. “Besides, you’ve been all up in my business that past two days -- it’s getting old.”

Sam then reached down and snatched Dean’s phone off the table, before it could even dawn on Dean what transpired.

“Hey! Come on!” Dean protested, but Sam just merely laughed. As his brother took the phone off sleep mode, he could feel a blush washing across his face. He tried to push it back down -- there could be plenty of innocent reasons to have that Facebook page up -- but nothing worked.

“Who is Castiel?” Sam asked, and Dean let out a sigh he was holding in. Sam browsed the page a bit, sending Dean’s aggravation to a new level. “Oh, he is Meg’s boyfriend. I knew he sounded familiar.” He handed the phone back to Dean with a confused expression. Dean promptly shoved it into his pockets. He reminded himself that he got worked up for nothing.

“Have you met him?” Dean asked casually, glancing over at Sam. He had made his way to the refrigerator and was browsing its contents.

“Nah, you?”

“Once.”

“That’s cool.” And Sam left.  

_Why did I make that weird?_

**...**

A few hours later, Dean was laying in bed staring at the ceiling. After his interaction with Sam earlier, he decided to not peruse Cas’s profile. Hearing Sam refer to Cas as ‘Meg’s boyfriend’ hit a nerve for some reason and Dean didn’t want to subject himself to more pain. _You’re being silly Winchester… Getting all worked up over some dude,_ Dean repeated to himself, over and over.

He nearly jumped out of skin when he hear his phone ping. It wasn’t a sound he was familiar with, so he was instantly curious.

_‘New message from Castiel Milton’_

“Shit.” His heart began to race. Dean had been doing so well with fighting his urge to look at Castiel’s pictures and life. Now, seeing Cas had jumped into a conversation first, Dean began to shake a little. He opened the message.

Castiel: Hello, Dean.

Dean: hi

Castiel: _…_

Dean watched the blinking ellipses indicating Cas was typing. Minutes went by and he got more and more anxious. _What does he want?_

Dean: wassup

Castiel: Not much. Just sitting here listen to Meg rant about you.

Dean: o rly? i hope its the good stuff

Castiel: I wouldn’t necessarily classify any rumors as “good stuff,” Dean.

Castiel: But I did hear Jo and you broke up.

Dean: yea…

Dean: its looking like that at least :(

Castiel: That’s unfortunate. Sorry to hear.

He had to set his phone down and think. Cas was with Meg that very moment, but was choosing to message him (granted, Meg’s rants do go on for awhile). And he’s sorry to hear about Jo and him. _Oh god, what if Jo told Meg all the details?_

Dean: so…

Dean: what r the rumors these days

Castiel: I honestly shouldn’t repeat them.

_What does that mean?_

Dean: come onnnnnnn

Dean: u can’t leave me hangin

Castiel: Are you sure?

Dean: bring it

Castiel: _..._

He was sitting on the edge of his bed now, leaning with his elbows resting on his knees and phone nestled tightly in between his hands. Dean was filled with dread and anticipation.

Castiel: Well, Meg is now telling everyone they you’re a closet homosexual.

_So Jo_ did _tell her_. A seething rage arrived in Dean’s stomach, but he’d be damned if lets on that it bothers him.

Dean: awesome.

Castiel: I told you it was uncouth.

Dean chuckled at Cas’s choice of words. The guy was so proper.

Dean: eh could have been worse

Castiel: Okay…

Dean: thx for telling me tho

Dean: im not big on surprises ;) :D

Dean did not know what possessed him to tack on the emoticons to that last part.  Disgusted with himself, he put down his phone and got up to get a beer from the fridge. When he returned, he had three new messages from Cas.

Castiel: I was thinking of how my bowling skills are lacking.

Castiel: My technique appears to be quite embarrassing, while yours is on point.

Castiel: I have a feeling this problem will come up multiple times…

Dean laughed and responded quickly, ignoring the sign that Cas wasn’t done typing.

Dean: youre prolly right

Castiel: Would you be willing to give me more pointers?

Dean spit out the sip he had taken as he read over Castiel’s newest message. Then read it again. And again. And once again for good measure.

He tossed his phone behind him in the bed and tried to ignore his increasing pulse. It was becoming abundantly clear to Dean that allowing Castiel to be friends with him on Facebook was a bad idea. There’s no way he can be alone with Cas, even in public, without clearly losing his grasp on reality. There’s no way he can even stomach the _thought_ of Cas in any setting. _This is not good_ , he thought, chugging his beer back. _Not good at all..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this motivates me....

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my friend Jenn and I actually going candlepin bowling. Later on in the year.... I went with someone to the same bowling alley, and bowled in the same fucking lane. Grinned and laughed like a maniac (internally) the whole time.


End file.
